The pieces that fall into place
by Rinko-Chwan
Summary: Your name is Teddy Lupin and this is the story of how your life falls into place over the years. James/Teddy


A/n: Wrote this story last year but never got around to posting it here. I kind of ship James/Hugo but for some reason love James/Teddy as well. Since I wrote this so long ago, I cannot remember how much research I actually did on their ages so pardon any mistakes here.

Summary: You are Teddy Lupin and this is the story of how your life falls into place over the years.

Pairing: James/Teddy

Disclaimer: I, in no way, own Harry Potter.

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You are born in a world that's in the middle of the war. The world does not pause just because you've arrived into it, wide eyed and innocent. Before your memories can even begin, the two closest people on Earth to you disappear forever. The war is brutal and the world is uncaring. And as your childlike innocent unleashes itself on the Earth, you are unaware of the heartache and pain but will come to know it eventually. As you grow slightly older and the war ends, you notice that you're different from others. Others who have both parents present. You are, by no means, less loved but the gap remains, never really filled no matter what.

When you were a toddler, the main father figure had been a young man with jet black hair and shining green eyes. He holds you close and you can nearly believe that he's your father and not the unfamiliar man in the photographs shown to you. You'd hold on tightly, not wanting to let go as the man laughs and you feel warm, loved. The man has a female companion, a young lady with ginger hair and a warm smile. While you aren't as close to her as the man, you still hold on just as tightly to her, only in a way a child would.

You are a metamorphmagus, just like your mother, you are told. You used to be fascinated by the way your hair and eyes change colours. They are especially affected by your moods, turning orange when embarrassed, maroon when angry, blue when sad and yellow when happy. Everyone who meets you seem just as fascinated by your ever changing appearance and as a toddler, you're just happy for the attention.

When you were three, the lady's stomach becomes to swell. 'Aunt Ginny', she'd chide you to call her as such. You'd try your best and all that comes out is 'Aunt Gin', she'd smile and ruffle your hair, laughing as you turn it into an interesting shade of purple. Over the months, as your grandmother brings you over to their house, you notice her stomach growing. "Why?" you asked, pointing frantically worried that something was wrong. Your godfather laughs, "there's a baby in there, Teddy," he says, "You'll have a playmate soon."

You don't want a playmate. For some reason, you feel threatened by this baby. Would the closest people you have to your own parents be taken away by the new child? In your tiny little world, you feel threatened and you don't like the feeling. "Oh don't be silly, of course they won't love you any less," your grandmother tells you as you picked at your vegetables, "there's always enough room for love to go around." You don't really understand what she says and it does nothing to assuage your fears.

The baby arrives a month before your fourth birthday. Your grandmother bundles you up in your outing clothes and you go to a hospital. 'St. Mungo', it says outside. The walls are endlessly white with people rushing to and fro. You stay close to your grandmother, heart clenching at the thought of the baby. Everything you know would end that day, you were sure. After what seemed like hours, a nurse came out and smiled, asking them if they would like to go in and see the baby. Your grandmother has to drag you into the room and the first thing you see is your godfather standing anxiously at the side of a bed where Aunt Gin laid on. In her arms is a small bundle. You swallow the lump in the throat as you approach the bed.

The baby has wrinkly skin and tuffs of dark hair, his eyes are closed and he appears to be asleep. Suddenly, you cannot feel the hate you know you should be feeling. All you can feel is overwhelming warmth for the tiny babe, a strong sense of protectiveness. Perhaps, you thought as you look at the beaming faces of the new parents, nothing really changed. All except the love you can _feel_ for the newly born child, you don't really understand that emotion but it is warm and tingly and at that moment, it is the best feeling in the world.

When you were 7 and James was 3, you'd play together despite the age gap. He's the closest thing you have to a friend and also a good playmate for he listens to you. You'd pretend to be a king and he'd be you knight and you'll go on adventures together. You are running around the living room, declaring your land as he giggles and stumbles behind you. A misplaced block causes him to trip suddenly and he falls to the soft carpet. It is by no means a bad fall but the sudden drop causes a nasty shock for the toddler and he breaks into a cry. The adults are in the backyard and unlikely to hear his cries. You hurry over, checking him for any injuries. He is not injured but he continues to cry. You cradle him gently in your thin arms, "shh, shhh," you speak quietly to him, "don't cry."

He stops abruptly, blinking bright brown eyes at you, shiny with tears, "Teddy!" He grips onto you and you let him. "That's right," you pat him gently on the back; "I'll protect you." It is a promise you'll swear to yourself even though you're the only one who will remember after this.

A year later, Aunt Gin is yet again pregnant. While the adults are overjoyed, James clearly isn't. You know what he's going through and no matter how many times you try to reassure him, he pushes you aware and throws a fit. At 8, you hold the promise to protect him close to your heart and so you tell him, "Well, even if they pay more attention to the new baby, I'll stay by you." He blinks at you, 4 and so very small, "really?"

"Really," you say firmly. He extends a hand, little pinkie sticking out, "pinkie swear." You reach out with your own pinkie, hooking onto his, "I swear."

The new baby is born and his name is Albus. You look at him, one hand holding onto James who's pointedly looking away, small hand tightening almost painfully around yours. Albus is small and slightly wrinkly with tuffs of black hair. He looks kind of like James, you think, but there is no outburst of warmth in your chest. You do not resent the new babe but you do not feel the overwhelming protectiveness you once felt. Whatever the reason, you do not know. All you can think of, as the adults cooed over the babe, was to never let go of the tiny hand in your grasp.

Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione have a baby that same year as well. Suddenly, the house seems filled with baby noises on a daily basis. The noise drives James out of the house and you follow. "All they care about is the stupid baby," James pouts, kicking a stone in his path. "Well," you say, "at least you have me." And he looks at you like you're the best thing in the world and your heart clenches, "you're the best." You feel like you're falling and flying at the same time and you don't understand.

When you are 11, a very special letter arrives. You can finally go to Hogwarts, your grandmother hugs you proudly and everyone is happy for you. While you are elated, you are also devastated. James is angry at you. "You said you'd be there for me," he cries childishly. You wince, "I'll be back during winter break and summer break. I'll write back." He says nothing, refusing to speak to you during the week before you leave.

At the station, everyone hugs you, "be good," they say. Albus looks at you wide eyed, "Ted- ted?" he calls you, and you smile at him. "I'll see you soon, Albie." He gurgles and laughs as you look around for James. He is beside his mother and looking at his shoes pointedly.

"James, mate," you say, not wanting to leave till you've made a proper goodbye. "Teddy," he says in a small voice that makes you ache for reasons unknown. Suddenly, he is upon you and you stumble back in surprise at the extra weight.

"You'd better not forget about me," he mumbles into your neck and you feel like a weight has been lifted as you hug him back, "I swear."

At Hogwarts, you are accepted readily into Hufflepuff. You are loyal to a fault and find yourself at home there. Your year mates are all fascinated by your metamorphmagus abilities and for the first few months, you like to show it off. However, as time passes, you are secretly sick of your ever changing appearance. For once, you think as you lay in the dorm, you'd like an anchor to hold you down lest you forget yourself.

You find comfort in writing letters to James, detailing your experiences at your first flight lesson or the first prank you were roped in to do with Kenneth Blanc. Sometimes, he writes back in his untidy handwriting and you both begin to plot about the things you would do together when he comes and joins you in Hogwarts. It is times like this you feel centred, rooted.

When you are 14, puberty strikes. You start growing taller and your face sharpens. Though you are capable of changing your features at will, you have never consciously done anything too drastic to your face feature so you know it is nature. You begin to lose any baby fat and suddenly, girls are becoming more aware of you. Leticia Morgan, a fourth year whom you barely know, clearly flirted with you on your way to the dining hall. You are baffled by the sudden attention, your hair turning light purple in confusion. She giggles, saying something about how cute you were before bouncing off. You write about the incident to James, detailing how strange you find girls. James is of no help. He thinks girls are spawns of the devil as Lily, your godfather's third and last child, has taken a liking to destroy his stuff.

At 14, you've befriended 12 year old Victoire Weasley. She is James cousin and due to being part Veela, is very attractive even at a young age. You put it upon yourself to look out for her despite being in different houses. She has, in some ways, become one of your best friends. "You have a most unusual relationship with James," she comments randomly one day. You stop abruptly in your tracks, "what do you mean?" She shrugs, "even though you're far apart for long periods of time, you two are still... connected." She's only 12 and some of the stuff she says doesn't make sense to you. You chalk it off to it being female weirdness and the conversation is forgotten.

James is finally 11 and he eagerly boards the train with you. You are 15 and feel eons older than James for he has yet to hit puberty and you feel uncomfortably large next to him. "Teddy! Is that the snack tray?" He points excitedly at the lady pushing the tray filled with goodies. You laugh and follow him, not finding your friends immediately like you usually would. You only have three years in Hogwarts with James and you want to treasure it from beginning to end.

In your final year of Hogwarts, after a disastrous string of dates, you have finally found the reason why. The feeling that's been in you for the past 13 years finally has a name in your head. You are irrevocably in love with James. Awkward James, who is finally going through puberty, complains to you about acne and how that Ravenclaw girl never notices him. You feel gutted for loving the Gryffindor and a part of you feels disgusted at yourself. What if someone else knew? Your heart pounds uncomfortably and you finally resolve to lock that feeling away. You have to, you tell yourself, lest the heartache kills you.

James does not really understand when you gradually pull away. You don't want to but you reason with yourself that soon you'll begin to work and would have less time for him anyway. You still promise to visit and write letters after you graduate and while he appears unconvinced about your reasons, he says nothing. Even though you tell yourself that it's the best for both of you and it will get better, your heart feels like it's breaking either way.

You are 19 and seeing Victoire off at the station. She'd asked you to come even though you had not the year before, claiming to be busy at work in the ministry. "James misses you," she says in exchange for a greeting, "you utterly daft git."

"I miss him too," you tell her. She narrows her pretty eyes at you. "Boys," she huffs finally. Gathering up the courage you had, you ask, "c-can I kiss you?"

She blinks at you for a moment, "what for?"

"There's something I'd like to check," you say truthfully. She eyes you for a second and nods. The kiss is deep but there are no fireworks. A gasp breaks them apart and you turn to see James looking wide eyed at the two of you.

"James!" The name leaves you in shock.

"What are you doing?" He asks, eyes darting to and fro.

"I was just seeing her off, go away," you say in a hurry. He turns and runs before you can say anything else. You feel like banging your head against a wall but Victoire beats you to it by smacking your head.

"You idiot," she shakes her head sadly, "so did you get your answer?"

You thought about the kiss and reply, "yes."

When James is 17, you've not seen him since that day at the station though you still exchange mail. He'd questioned your relationship with Victoire but you've vehemently denied it. You can tell he is sceptical but he doesn't push. You've finally returned for Christmas after years of travelling for diplomatic purposes. It is an excuse over the years not to see James but it seemed even distance cannot take away your feelings. With no other excuse, you knock tentatively on the Potter's door.

James opens it, of course he did, and you are stunned by his appearance. At the same height as you with lean compact muscles from quidditch, he is the epitome of perfect and you want to run away and scream your agony in your pillow. "Teddy!" he smiles brightly and your heart fills like it's going to burst, he envelops you in a tight hug before you can even blink. Warmth fills you, beating away the chill of winter. He pulls back all too soon and laughs, "Interesting hair colour." He has catalogued nearly all the hair colours you have along with the accompanying emotion. It is rare that he has not seen a colour your hair has turned in.

You blink, confused, "what colour?"

He stops laughing and says, "Its crimson red! Isn't it on purpose?"

You are now so very aware. Crimson red is for love.

Throughout the holiday, he sticks by you, it is unexpected but pleasant. There are times you could swear he is teasing you, like moaning while drinking hot chocolate. You see Victoire as well during large family gatherings and whenever you go to talk to her, it is never long before James come to pull you away. You are baffled by his actions and while Victoire has a knowing look on her face, she refuses to say anything. "There are some things in life you have to figure out for yourself," she tells him all wisely one night, "so get your head out of the gutter and actually see what's in front of you."

"Woman, if I knew what you're talking about I'd already know it," you know you sound whiny but you don't care anymore at that point. She stares at you, "well here's a starting point, confess." She turns on your heels and leaves before you can ask confess to whom because you're pretty sure you have never told anyone who you're in love with.

You are caught in the rain unexpectedly one day. The next, you wake up with a fuzzy head and a stabbing pain at the side of the head. Your nose is stuffed and you can barely breathe but yet you drag yourself to work. Your co-workers look at you worriedly but you assure them you're fine and drink a bottle of pepper up potion along with one for flu. And yet, you are lethargic and your vision blurs. In your office, a strange wave of nausea overcomes you but instead of vomiting, you fall and the world turns black.

In your daze, someone touches you, you are lifted off the ground and someone touches your forehead. "Merlin, he's burning up!" someone says. "You'd better apparate him home." You want to protest for apparating usually makes you sick but you are only half conscious and unsure of whether you are in reality or not. You lay your head against the warm body when a voice sounding very much like James and very close to you says, "no, Teddy dislikes apparating, it'd probably make him even sicker than this."

You want to ask what is he doing at the ministry and you want to know if this is all a fever induced hallucinations but you are unconscious once more before you can do either. The next time you wake, you are in your own bed with a cool wet towel on your head. Soft evening light filters into your room and you wonder how long you've been asleep. Feeling better but not entirely cured, you wrap the blanket around you for warmth and trudge out of the room to get a drink for your throat is parched. Out in your small living room, a figure is sitting on the small couch, newspaper in hand. _James_ , your mind immediately supplies.

He must have heard you for he turns and looks at you worriedly, "Teddy, you shouldn't be out of bed yet." "Thirsty," you say. "You brought me home?" "Yeah, since you had dad on your emergency contact list and he was busy, he called me to go over." He stands up and walks to the kitchen, fetching you a glass of water, "thanks."

As you sip your water, sitting at the island, he looks at you. You want to squirm under the scrutiny, unsure when it felt like you two were the same age rather than you being older by 4 years. You put down the glass and say, "you can go home now if you'd like, I'm sure I'll be fine after some more sleep."

James looks away for a moment, "do you not want me here?"

You are shocked by what he says, "of course not! It's just I'm sure you have better things to do than take care of me."

He turns to look at you, brown eyes with flecks of gold under the kitchen light, you gulp. "What if," he begins, "I want to spend more time with you?"

You aren't really sure if you're dreaming or not but he doesn't wait for a reply, merely tugs you to your feet and escorts you back into bed. He lays the blanket over you and your eyes begin to droop, heavy with sleep. You feel flitting lips on your forehead before turning to your dreams.

The next few days, you are entirely unsure if that day had been a dream entirely. James had left when you'd woken up the next day and you haven't heard from him since then. You visit the Potter residence for dinner as Aunt Gin has been complaining that she's not seen you in a while. You are not the only visitor. Scorpius Malfoy is there as well. He is handsome in a cool, regal way and somewhere along the way; he has become Albus' best mate. You remember it is summer break for Albus' fourth year and Lily's second year. The house seems fuller and livelier.

"Where's James?" you inquire as you step into the kitchen. Aunt Gin is by the stove, cooking something that smells heavenly. "He's at auror training, should be back soon," she tells you, "you know Teddy, Harry and I approve, you don't have to hide from us."

You stare at her dumbly, "p-pardon?"

She sighs exasperatedly, "you and James."

"What about us?" You feel panic bubbling up your chest. You know your hair is a deep purple at this point.

She looks at you curiously. "You two... aren't together?"

You shake your head vigorously. "Well then, best get started on making that happen then," she says with finality, "after all, Harry and I have already approved of it."

You stay rooted to the spot, unsure of what to say when the door bursts open and James enters.

Despite having obtained the permission, you are still unsure. You are firstly confused at how everyone else seems to have the idea that you two are together and secondly worried that James doesn't feel the same way.

You are not an auror who lunches head first at problems. You withdraw, to centre yourself and decide what to do next. Perhaps with work and everything, you become lost in the stream of time and are surprised when you see an angry James banging on your door. You open it quickly lest he breaks your door.

"You utter git!" The words pierce your heart more painfully then it should and you wince.

"You're avoiding me, aren't you?"

"W-what?"

"It's been two months, Teddy," he looks tired, "if you're disgusted, you could have just told me."

"Disgusted?" You feel out of the loop and your hair is a light purple.

He peers at you and you know he can tell what you're feeling. "You... don't know anything do you?" You shake your head. His brown eyes appear to steel, like it does when he makes a decision he'd follow through to the end.

Before you can register it, he has leaned forward and a pair of warm lips presses against yours. You gasp in surprise he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. He break apart seconds later and you nearly whimper at the lost of contact. He breathes heavily and asks in a small voice, "are you disgusted now?"

"What colour is my hair?" You ask instead. It's been 18 years since you'd laid your eyes upon James and you are ready.

"Red," James reply, still looking confused, "crimson red."

You smile at him, leaning forward to whisper against his lips, "Crimson red is for love."

His brown eyes widen and you take the chance to close the gap before he says anything. It is the perfect moment, you think, as he pushes you against your door, holding you like you are the most important thing in the world. The warmth in your heart blossoms and you hold him just as tightly.

When you are 22 and James is 18, the pieces of your lives are falling into place. It is by no means complete but the important pieces are there and you know he'd be by your side no matter what happens. And isn't that the most important thing?

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And it's done. Do leave a review!


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